The Dragon Who Was Afraid of Fire

High in the mountains, where clouds caught on the rocky peaks, there was an enormous dragon cave.

Well, not just one cave.

There were hundreds of caves.

Small caves for small dragons. Big caves for big dragons. Caves with hot springs, caves full of shiny stones, and even one that was home to a dragon so old he remembered when the mountains were still very small.

In the biggest cave lived a little dragon named Felix.

Felix had green scales, short wings, paws that were a little too big, and a tail that very often did something completely different from what Felix wanted.

But there was something even more unusual about Felix.

Felix was afraid of fire.

Very afraid.

Very, very afraid.

And that was a bit of a problem.

Because as dragons grew up, they all had to learn to breathe fire.

One morning, Felix’s dad said:

"Son, today’s a big day."

Felix gave Dad a suspicious look.

"What kind?"

"You’re starting your fire-breathing lessons!"

Felix froze.

"Today?"

"Today."

"How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow will be today too… only tomorrow."

Felix sighed.

"How about never?"

Felix’s mom smiled.

"Every dragon has to try sometime."

Felix looked at the torch standing nearby and noticed a flame dancing at the tip.

"It’s looking at me."

Dad glanced at the torch.

"The flame?"

"Yes."

"And what’s it doing?"

"Looking."

"Flames don’t have eyes."

Felix narrowed his eyes.

"This one does."

Dad taught the first lesson.

He led Felix into a large stone room with a hollow tree trunk standing in the middle.

"All right," said Dad. "First, take a deep breath."

Felix took a breath.

He stuck out his belly.

He closed his eyes.

And blew.

"Fwoooo!"

An enormous cloud of smoke flew out of his mouth.

The smoke swirled under the ceiling, sank to the floor, and filled the whole room.

Felix coughed.

"There’s no fire."

"There isn’t," Dad admitted.

There’s something, though, Felix thought.

"There’s a whole lot of smoke, though," said Dad.

Felix nodded.

"That could be useful."

"For what?"

Felix thought.

"For… making smoke."

Dad smiled.

"It’s a start."

The next day, they tried again.

Felix took a breath.

He stuck out his belly.

He closed his eyes.

And blew.

This time, three huge bubbles flew out of his mouth.

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

One bubble bounced off Dad’s nose.

The second bounced off the ceiling.

The third popped on Felix’s head.

"I don’t think that’s fire," said Felix.

"Definitely not."

"But they’re pretty."

"Very."

At last, Mom decided to help.

"You have to stop thinking about being scared," she said.

"How?"

"Think about something hot."

Felix thought.

"About soup?"

"Good."

"About hot stones?"

"Great."

"About how hot my bath is?"

"Perfect."

Felix closed his eyes.

He imagined a big bowl of hot soup.

He took a breath.

He stuck out his belly.

And blew.

"PFFF!"

A stream of… confetti flew out of his mouth.

Bits of colored paper rained down all over the room.

Mom blinked.

Dad blinked too.

Felix looked at the confetti.

"I don’t think that’s soup."

"No," said Mom.

"It’s not fire either."

"No."

"But it looks festive."

Dad picked up a piece of paper.

"Very festive."

And so Felix practiced.

He tried with Dad.

He tried with Mom.

He even tried at dragon school.

His teacher was Mr. Basil, an enormous orange dragon with a mustache so long that he sometimes stepped on it with his own paws.

"Fire breathing starts here," said Mr. Basil, pointing to his belly.

"Here?" asked Felix.

"Here."

"And then?"

"The air travels through your throat."

"And then?"

"Through my nose?" Felix asked.

"Not through your nose!"

"Too bad."

Mr. Basil sighed.

"Through your throat. Then into your mouth. And…"

"Fire?"

"Fire."

Felix swallowed.

"What if it doesn’t work?"

"Then you’ll try again."

Felix tried.

First, he let out smoke.

Then bubbles.

Then he made a noise like a sneeze, and a little cloud of sparks flew out of his mouth.

One little spark danced in the air.

Felix’s eyes opened wide.

"I saw something!"

"What?" asked Mr. Basil.

"A spark!"

Mr. Basil smiled.

"Exactly."

Felix looked at his paw.

"Was that mine?"

"Yours."

Felix smiled, but the spark went out.

And the next day, not a single spark appeared.

A few weeks passed.

All the other young dragons in his class could breathe fire by then.

Little flames.

Big flames.

Some dragons could even make a fireball.

And Felix?

Felix was still blowing bubbles.

One evening, he sat outside the cave.

He looked at the mountains.

Mom sat down beside him.

"Feeling sad?"

Felix nodded.

"Everyone else can."

"Oh, you can do lots of things too."

"But not fire."

Mom put her wing around him.

"Not yet."

Felix looked at her.

"What if I never can?"

"Then we’ll look for something you can do."

Felix smiled a little.

"Bubbles?"

"Bubbles."

"Confetti?"

"Confetti too."

"Smoke?"

"Especially smoke."

Felix giggled.

The next day, the dragons held a big celebration.

Tables were set up on the mountainside. They held fruit, cookies, roasted chestnuts, and big pitchers of sweet juice.

The young dragons were going to show what they could do.

One made three fireballs.

Another set a small pile of wood on fire.

A third blew such a long flame from his mouth that everyone began to clap.

Felix stood at the back.

He didn’t want to try.

Not today.

But suddenly, he heard:

"Fire!"

Everyone turned to look.

The wind swept a flame from one of the torches onto some dry leaves. The fire spread quickly across the mountainside.

The dragons began running in every direction.

"Water!"

"Get the little dragons away!"

"Hurry!"

Felix was just about to run after the others when he heard:

"Felix!"

He turned around.

His younger cousin, Leon, stood in a small cave off to one side. A pile of dry branches lay in front of the entrance, blocking the way out.

"I can’t get out!" Leon called.

Felix ran over and tried to move the branches.

They wouldn’t budge.

He looked at the fire coming closer.

His heart began to pound.

"I’m scared," Felix whispered.

But Leon was still inside.

Felix took a breath, stuck out his belly, and blew.

"FWOOOO!"

An enormous cloud of smoke flew out of his mouth.

"Not now!" he groaned.

The smoke quickly drifted away.

Felix looked at the dry branches and tried again.

He took a breath.

He stuck out his belly.

He opened his mouth.

"Ssssss!"

A tiny spark jumped out of his mouth.

Felix blinked.

He tried again.

This time, a little flame appeared.

"Fire!" he cried in amazement.

He aimed the flame at the dry branches.

One caught fire, then another. A moment later, the whole pile began to break apart and slide down the slope.

"The way’s clear!" Leon shouted.

Leon ran out of the cave and straight into his mom’s arms.

Felix looked down at his snout.

"So I really can."

Dad ran up and hugged Felix tight.

Mr. Basil came over too. He smoothed his long mustache.

"Well, look at that. Your first flame."

Felix grinned.

"And I didn’t even set anything on fire."

Mr. Basil looked around at the burning bushes.

"Not yet."

Felix giggled.

A little later, the fire was put out, and the dragons went back to celebrating.

Mr. Basil patted Felix on the shoulder.

"Looks like your fire-breathing lesson was a success."

Felix looked down at his snout.

"So can I try again?"

"You can."

Felix took a breath.

He stuck out his belly.

He opened his mouth.

And…

"PFFF!"

A big cloud of smoke flew out of his mouth.

Then three bubbles.

And last of all…

PFFF!

All the confetti that Felix apparently still had somewhere inside him rained down on everyone.

One paper star stuck to Mr. Basil’s nose.

The second landed on Dad’s head.

The third stuck to Felix’s tail.

Silence fell.

Mr. Basil looked at the star on his nose.

Then at Felix.

"You can breathe fire now."

He took the paper star off.

"Now you could use a lesson in blowing without confetti."

Felix laughed so hard that he sneezed.

"PFFF!"

This time, only one bubble came out of his mouth.

Everyone looked at the bubble.

The bubble slowly rose above the tables.

And then…

Plop.

The bubble fell straight into a pitcher of sweet juice.

Felix looked at the pitcher.

"Oops."